


Jane's French faux pas

by joiedevivre2011



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-06
Updated: 2013-11-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joiedevivre2011/pseuds/joiedevivre2011
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Jane's request out of curiosity, Maura teaches her best friend a few phrases in French. Later, out of the blue, Jane uses one phrase on Maura - not actually knowing its meaning - and it changes everything between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jane's French faux pas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KathyIsWeird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyIsWeird/gifts).



Hazel eyes widened in shock. “Excuse me?”  
  
Instantly Jane threw her hands out in a “What?!” kind of gesture. “What? Did I say it wrong or something?”

“You,” Maura stuttered, “you don’t know what that means, do you?”

_“So,” Jane elongated the vowel, “Is there a reason why you speak to your mother in French most of the time?”_

_The honey blonde stopped chopping the carrots and looked up at Jane, who was sitting across the kitchen island bar, elbows propped up on it with her chin resting in both hands. “It’s mostly so that I can maintain my fluency in French. Why do you ask?” She looked back down to the chopping board on the counter and resumed slicing carrots for the vegetable soup she (and Jane, sort of) was making._

_Shrugging, Jane replied, “I dunno, I was just curious. It’s kinda cool, ya know, that you can do that. I barely know any Italian honestly. Ma pretends like she does, but she doesn’t. Nonna didn’t teach us much when I was little. Just a few phrases here and there.”_

_Maura’s smile widened, but she didn’t glance up. “I could teach you some French, if you’d like? Maybe a couple of random phrases. They don’t even have to be useful, though I could certainly teach you some of those as well.”_

_“How do you say ‘I’m stealing a carrot’ then?” Jane asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she reached across the wide island and grabbed a slice of carrot off the chopping board in front of Maura._

_“‘Je vole une tranche de carotte’ since technically you only just stole a slice of carrot, and not the entirety,” Maura answered, quirking up an eyebrow._

_As Jane chewed on the small chunk, she parroted back, wiggling both her eyebrows, “Juh vohl oon trahnch duh carrot.”_

_“We’ll have to work on your pronunciation, certainly.”_

_“Close enough, though, right?” Jane asked, reaching for another piece._

_“Arrête!” Maura cried, dropping the knife in her hand and slapping Jane’s hand away._

_“Whassat mean?”_   
  
_“Stop it.”_

_Suddenly Jane grinned. “Teach me somethin’ dirty.”_

_Maura was quiet for a moment, concentrating on finishing chopping the last of the carrots. She set the large knife down on the counter and scooped up the mound of sliced carrots, dropping them into the large pot on the stove top. “Why do you need to know inappropriate phrases in French?” she replied coolly, glancing up at Jane, who was still grinning._

_The smirk on Jane’s face bothered the doctor for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I dunno,” Jane replied, shrugging. “Might use it sometime for all I know.”_

_Suddenly Maura smirked and slowly replied, “J’aime beaucoup tes nénés.”_   
  
_Jane quirked an eyebrow up before saying, “Jam bo-coo tay naynay?”_

 _Maura couldn’t help but chuckle as she began to clean up the mess left around the chopping board next to the stove._   
  
_“Okay, what the hell does that mean?”_

_Flicking her tongue out to wet her lips, she translated, “I really like your tits.”_

_Jane’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “Why the hell would I ever need to say something like that? Last time I checked, I don’t like tits, Maur.”_

_“Menteuse,” Maura muttered under her breath, cracking a smile. “Tu aimes les **miens**.”_

_“Wanna share with the class what you just said there, too?”_

_Maura’s sigh was heavy. “Liar.”_

_“And…? It doesn’t take that many words to call me a liar, which I’m not by the way.” Jane was torn between being annoyed and laughing at what she’d just gotten herself into._

_“I said you like mine,” Maura replied, her eyes challenging Jane immediately. “And before you deny that, you might want to consider how many times a day you stare at my breasts.”_

_Jane scowled. “Teach me something else, something I might actually would use.”_

_“Arrête de me draguer!” Maura smirked, lifting an eyebrow as well._

_“Ah-ret duh muh drag ay,” Jane repeated slowly. “So that means, ‘Stop...something’?”_

_Maura lifted one shoulder in a small shrug, and replied, “‘Stop hitting on me,’ which is something I’m sure you say to just about anyone who does.”_

_Jane immediately began to refute Maura’s assertion. “I absolutely do not!”_  
  
 _Her best friend lifted an eyebrow in challenge._   
  
_“Okay, fine. I do. I’ll be sure to use that next time I’m in Paris, then.”_

_“I would love to witness Frenchmen hitting on you,” Maura laughed. “They wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you.”_

_Jane laughed. “Well, if I ever go to France again, I’ll make sure I take you with me so you can tell them off in French for me, okay?”_

“No, I have absolutely no idea what I just said. I heard it in a song one time,” Jane explained, shrugging.

“Jane, you just propositioned me.”  
  
Jane’s jaw dropped disbelievingly. “I did what now?” the brunette spat out.

“‘Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?’ translates as ‘Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Maura clarified. “Therefore, you just asked me if I wanted to have sex with you.”

Jane looked away and reached up with her left hand to hook it around the back of her neck. “Well, this is awkward.”

Maura tentatively stepped closer to Jane, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “It doesn’t have to be awkward,” she replied quietly, looking down at her shoes.

“Pretty sure it’s considered awkward when you accidentally ask your best friend if she wants to sleep with you, especially if it’s in another language,” the detective replied, slowly looking back at Maura and catching her gaze.

“What if I told you, ‘j’aime beaucoup tes nénés, Jane’,” Maura offered quietly, barely above a whisper. “Je pense à toi très souvent,” her voice became stronger, “plus comme une amante que mon amie. Je pense à tes lèvres, à tes yeux, à tes mains sur mon corps. Je suis folle de toi, ma belle Jane. Absolument folle.”

The brunette swallowed hard and weakly whispered, “You like my,” and stopped before swallowing again. “What else did you just say?”

Slowly Maura stepped even closer to Jane, whose arms hung limply at her sides while she leaned against the kitchen island. The honey blonde placed each hand on the counter behind Jane and leaned in more toward her face, mere inches away. “Do you really want me to tell you what else I said?”

Jane instantly bit her bottom lip, and hesitated a moment before swallowing again and nodding.

“I think of you very often, more as a lover than my friend. I think of your lips, of your eyes, of your hands on my body. I am crazy about you, my beautiful Jane. Absolutely crazy.” Maura’s voice was soft, melodic.

Dark eyes searched hazel. “Why are you telling me this, Maur?”

Maura sighed and lifted her right hand to cup Jane’s jaw tenderly. Brushing her thumb over Jane’s cheek, she quietly replied, “Because I think you deserve to know just how important you are to me. In fact, you are the most important person in my life. You saved me even though I never even knew I needed it.”

Slowly the brunette wrapped her fingers around the back of Maura’s hand and guided the honey blonde’s palm to her lips, closing her eyes and kissing it gently, reverently. Dropping their still linked hands to their sides, Jane’s gaze drifted from Maura’s slightly parted lips, up her cheeks, to golden green orbs with tears shining in them. “Ti amo, mia cara. Ti amo _**tanto**_.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Ti amo, mia cara. Ti amo tanto" is Italian for "I love you, my dear. I love you so much." 
> 
> I imagine Jane hearing this in Italian often enough during her childhood to still remember it 20+ years later.


End file.
